


cobblestones

by Esbion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Actually just stuck in the past, First Meetings, Harry Potter Rare Pair Bingo: Round 2, M/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Time Travel, intergenerational
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esbion/pseuds/Esbion
Summary: Newt Scamander wants to defeat an anti-house elf legislation, and a mysterious boy offers to help.
Relationships: Newt Scamander/Regulus Black
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Harry Potter Rare Pair Bingo: Round Two!





	cobblestones

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt S077 Newt/Regulus
> 
> wow its a new ship tag! this pairing is unexpected (not even in the same generation) but I'm genuinely shipping Newgulus now

Newt Scamander hated his job.

He hated sitting at a desk all day, in the Office of House-Elves Relocation. It had been Theseus who had put his name in for the job. As someone who had been expelled from school, he should be grateful he had such a job, his brother had said. It was better than having no job at all, but that didn’t mean Newt liked it.

He especially hated it when he had to see a document like the one currently in front of him.

“What’s this?” he asked his supervisor. “They are proposing that House-elves should be restricted in their use of magic, to only perform what is directly ordered for them to do?”

“Make fifty copies by tomorrow, the Wizengamot is going to make their decision.”

“But, sir--”

“Newt,” Rookwood sighed and looked at Newt over the top of his glasses. “This is your job. You do not get to question it. Just do it.”

Newt shrunk back, defeated. “Alright, sir.”

“If you have a problem with it, take it up with the council.” He said, turning away.

Newt stared gloomily at the papers. He knew damn well no one would take a lowly office assistant from one of the least important departments in the Ministry seriously. No one cared about the House-elves. But the Magizoologist in him didn’t like the thought of hampering the freedom of any magical creatures. It made him think of creatures in cages, like the ones he’d seen at the circus when it came around. He hated it.

If only there was something he could _do_.

***

One of the few things about being stuck in 1914 that he really, truly enjoyed was the butterbeer, Regulus thought as he sat at the bar drinking. He had just gotten out of work for the day and had come to his favorite place, the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps it was the fact that it was brewed fresh, or the addition of more alcohol than he was than he had been able to access in school. The bartender here never asked for ID, unlike the ones in his own time.

They believed he was over seventeen based solely on his looks-- his now-gaunt face, the long black hair, and his Borgin and Burkes uniform. He had decided to work at the store when he realized he was stuck in 1914 for good, after Kreacher had transported him here. Regulus remembered the last command he gave Kreacher in the cave while recovering from drinking the Dark Lord's vile potion. 

_Get me far away from here_ , Regulus said.

He didn’t know whether Kreacher had meant to send him back 67 years into the past, but he had.

Now Regulus had no way of getting back.

He was adjusting, day by day. He was living as a nobody, pretending to be a distant cousin of the Blacks, while avoiding his great-great-grandparents at all costs. It worked, for the most part. Nobody questioned him, except his landlady when he occasionally slipped up and referred to something that had happened in the post-1915 world.

Regulus glanced up and saw a person at the side of the bar, hanging up a poster. One word caught Regulus’s eye.

 _House-elves_.

Regulus got off his stool so fast he nearly knocked it over. He hurried over to the bulletin board and read the sign just as the man finished putting it up.

_Oct 8th at 9 am - come fight against Bill #3359 for House-Elves rights._

“Bill #3359?” Regulus said.

The bloke who had put up the poster--a tall bloke with reddish-brown curls that fell onto his face-- said, “It’s the Bill for the Limitation of Elven Abilities and Knacks, or B.L.E.A.K. for short. They’re trying to make it illegal for house-elves to use magic unless given strict commands.”

Regulus clenched his fists. He felt red-hot on the inside, a fire lighting up in his chest.  
“They can’t do that. That’s--that’s--”

“Wrong, is what it is.”

Regulus looked up at the bloke and he saw the same fire that burned inside him reflected back in his blue eyes.

“I work in the Office of House-Elf Relocation, and I saw this bill and I’m not allowed to say anything at work, but if other people protest, maybe...”

“Yes,” Regulus said, nodding fiercely. ““We can’t let this happen.”

***

Newt walked down the cobblestone path, side by side with the boy from the pub. In their hands, they carried a stack of posters each.

“There’s another bulletin board across from Flourish and Blotts, I think,” said the boy.

Newt nodded. “Let’s go there.”

Newt realized as they walked, that there would be many more copies of the poster after they put it up on the few bulletin boards that were located in Diagon Alley. He had created these just as he had gotten out of work, secretly making 50 copies since that was the number that was in his head after having to make 50 copies of the Bill.

He walked up to the nearest blank wall and, on the side of a building, hung the poster up with a quick adhesive spell.

“What are you doing?” asked the boy from the pub, a note of horror in his voice.

“Hanging up posters,” Newt said. He wandered over to the next blank space he saw, a brick wall dividing two shops.

“You could get in trouble for that.”

“But isn’t it worth it?” Newt said “For the house-elves?”

“I...I suppose.” The boy said, through he still looked doubtful. “I-I’ll go put these on that side.”

Newt nodded. They split up. Newt went down the left side of Diagon Alley and pasted his posters on every blank surface he could find. He weaved his way through crowds, apologizing as he jostled people as he rushed past them.

On the other side of the road, he saw the dark-haired boy doing the same thing, albeit with a bit of hesitancy, looking from side to side before hastily slapping the paper onto the wall.

He glanced across the road and spotted Newt, who gave him a grin.

They converged at the end of Diagon Alley, having finished putting up all of the posters.

“I guess all we have to do is wait,” Newt said, then cocked his head curiously at the other boy. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Regulus. Regulus Black.” He tucked a strand of long, gorgeous hair behind his ear.

Newt scrutinized his face, he could definitely see some resemblance to Cygnus Black in his delicate features and pitch-black eyes.

“And you are?”

“Newt Scamander.”

Regulus’s eyes widened. “ _The_ Newt Scamander? Author of ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’?”

“I haven’t written any books about fantastic beasts. Though I wish I had,” Newt rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

Regulus opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” said Newt, about to turn away.

He spotted something on Regulus’s arm.

“That’s an interesting tattoo.” Newt reached out and touched Regulus’s arm without thinking, his finger tracing the design, a skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth like a tongue. “You like snakes?”

Regulus’s face flushed at Newt’s touch. He pulled his arm back, covering the tattoo with his sleeve. “Er--yeah. Snakes. I was once a Slytherin.”

“Hmmm. I don’t remember you at Hogwarts.”

“I was-- er, younger.”

Newt stared at him. Regulus seemed to be his age, give or take a year or two. And even if he had been a younger student, due to the small size of Hogwarts, he knew every one of the 257 students. Their constant proximity in the boarding school made it impossible not to know the face of every person there.

Yet, Newt didn’t get the sense that Regulus was lying. How mysterious. The boy was an enigma.

“I should go,” Regulus said, turning to leave.

“Well, see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you.”

Regulus threw him a small smile over his shoulder just before they parted ways.

***

Regulus walked out of his flat. As he headed down the road, he glanced at the walls where he and Newt had hung up posters. He realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he had been right. The posters were taken down. Shopkeepers hadn't approved of their advertising. The only poster that was left was on the official bulletin board in Flourish and Blotts, where it blended with the hundred other flyers.  
He hoped that it had reached the eyes of at least a few.

Taking a deep breath, Regulus focused his mind on the location of the Ministry and Disapparated on the spot.

When he opened his eyes again he was right where he had intended to be, at the front entrance of the Ministry. He looked around. There was one other person there.

Newt Scamander, waiting at the entrance.

Regulus still couldn’t believe he had met the author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them._ Regulus had spent hours poring over that textbook during his school days, fascinated by the man’s adventures in finding and cataloging creatures. This Newt Scamander was just a teenager now, around Regulus’s own age. It was hard to reconcile this version with the Newt Scamander on the back of the textbook with his graying hair and wrinkled face. However, there was something similar about him that Regulus couldn’t quite put his finger on, perhaps the sparkle in his eyes.

Newt spotted him walking down the road and waved.

“Are we the only ones here?” asked Regulus.

Newt gave a heavy sigh. “Yes.”

“I see.” Regulus said He crossed his arms over his chest. ”So what do you want to do now?”

“I...I don’t know,” Newt admitted. “I’m going to have to start working soon...”

“We don’t have the manpower for a protest,” Regulus said. He knew that the best way to get attention from the government was to make noise and break things. “But...”

“...but what?”

“Maybe if I can get people to sign a petition, that would convince the lawmakers to change their minds.”

“Alright, give it a try.” Newt said. “I was hoping someone would need these, but now...” He reached into his rucksack and pulled out some hand-drawn posters bearing the words “JUSTICE FOR HOUSE-ELVES,” and “SAY NO to BILL #3395” and “MAGICAL AUTONOMY IS A RIGHT.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take those,” Regulus said.

“All of them?”

“Yes,” Regulus said. He set up a charm so that these signs would float behind him, levitating in the air without him having to hold them up.

This was a burden he would bear alone. He had said this to himself before, Regulus recalled, at the moment when he realized what the Dark Lord had done to Kreacher and Regulus had decided to go and interfere with the Dark Lord’s plans.

“Alright. I’ll try to stall the vote while you collect signatures.” Newt gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before turning to leave.

Well, maybe not completely alone, Regulus thought.

***

Newt hovered near the entrance as he watched Regulus accosting Ministry of Magic employees, asking for their signatures. Newt remembered his own attempts to make people aware of the world's injustices. Whenever he tried to raise awareness about the plight of endangered Grindylows or the poaching of Welsh dragon eggs, people grew disinterested at his rambling and started walking away. With Regulus, it was different. There was something about Regulus that made people _want_ to stop and talk to him, to hear his soft voice explain how terrible it would be if House-Elves could not exercise their own creativity freely. How wizardkind was limited in their abilities, and taking away house-elves’ rights would only stop the rest of them from thriving as well.

It made Newt want to stop and listen to him, too.

Newt forced himself to walk away. There would be plenty of time to talk to Regulus, later when they were celebrating their victory, if they were celebrating it.

By the time Newt entered the building and rode the lift down to the Office of House-Elf Relocation, it was five minutes past nine.

“You’re late,” Rookwood glared at him.

“Sorry about that.” He sat down at the desk and began the day's tedious work of looking at applications to relocate house-elves to different homes.

As he worked, Newt glanced at the clock every so often. The vote was at eleven, hopefully that was long enough for Regulus to obtain enough signatures.

After a while, Rookwood cleared his throat. “Newt, where's those papers you were supposed to copy? The Bill the council is voting on?"

Newt picked up a file from the desk and handed it to his supervisor.

Rookwood grabbed the file and went off to go downstairs where the Wizengamot was meeting.

Less than five minutes later, Newt heard a voice coming out of the tiny brass figurine on his desk. "Scamander," hissed Rookwood. "These are the wrong papers."

"Oh I'm sorry, let me look." Newt rifled through the papers on his desk, knowing quite well that the offensive bill was hidden in his own bag. "I can't seem to find it..."

"Newt, you had one job."

Newt grinned to himself, looking towards the window where he knew a certain dark-haired boy was outside.

***

“Sign for house-elves rights,” Regulus called out to the Ministry employees as they walked past. His throat felt slightly hoarse after yelling all morning.

Most people looked at him skeptically, signing the petition just to get him out of their faces. This wasn't usually the type of person he was, pestering people for attention. But today was an exception, today he put away his reservations and poured every ounce of energy into his task.

"Thank you, ma'am," Regulus told a witch in a blue robe as she signed her name with a flourish.

Almost there. Just a few more signatures.

He kept going, asking people to contribute to their cause just in the form of their name.

In the distance, he heard the Ministry clock striking from deep within the building. Regulus counted the dings. Eleven.

He took a deep breath, turned around and headed into the building.

***

Newt was on the lift, his arms full of the copies of the bill he was supposed to bring down to the legislation chamber. He could not stall any longer. Behind him, Rookwood was fuming, muttering something about how this new generation was incompetent.

Newt realized too late that the lift was going up instead of down. The doors opened, revealing the Atrium floor where people entered the building. Newt locked eyes with Regulus standing in the lobby.

Regulus hurried across the floor and stepped into the lift just before the doors closed. He was breathing hard, his pale cheeks flushed.

“We’re going down to Level Two,” Rookwood said.

“So am I,” Regulus took a place next to Newt, who was looking straight ahead and pretending not to know him.

“Ah, you’re reporting on the new law, are you?” asked Rookwood. 

“Something like that.”

Carefully, Regulus tilted the parchment so that Newt could see that it was full of signatures from top to bottom. He had a bit of a proud smile on his face.

Newt gave a tiny nod of approval.

The lift descended down, down, down going to the second-lowest floor of the underground building. When they got out of the lift, Newt and his supervisor headed straight for the door to the dungeon. Newt was aware of Regulus trailing behind him with hesitant steps, clutching his papers to his chest.

Rookwood entered the room first, going in through the double doors.

Newt took the few seconds his supervisor wasn’t looking to turn towards Regulus. “You’re coming, right?”

“Are you sure that’s--you know, allowed? To interrupt while the council is in session.”

“This is more important than the rules, don’t you agree?”

Regulus didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.”

***

Regulus could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he stood at the doors of the dungeon. He listened to the voices inside. The Head Warlock was reading Bill #3395 aloud to the Wizengamot, his voice droning on and on. When he finally finished, he called out, “Arguments for and against the Bill should be presented at this time. If there are no arguments, we will go straight to the vote.”

Regulus steeled himself.

This was it.

He burst into the room, making his way through the double doors. Every person in the room turned their faces towards him. The purple-robed members of the Wizengamot stared down at him with stony expressions-- no doubt upset about the breach of etiquette.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I have something very important to say.”

Regulus was sweating all over. His heart beat so hard he could _hear_ it in his ears. His throat felt dry, the words stuck in his throat.

The entire room waited.

Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus spotted Newt Scamander standing to the side, nodding vigorously in encouragement.

Regulus held up the paper with shaking hands, letting the parchment unroll all the way down to the floor. “These are signatures from 109 Ministry employees. The people of this country don’t want the Bill to pass.”

A single wrinkled old wizard stood up furiously. “My Bill is the only way to stop house-elves from mutinying.”

“Yaxley,” said the Head Warlock. “Sit down.”

“Please listen to me. Bill #3395 is a violation of house-elves rights.” As Regulus spoke, his voice rose, becoming more confident as he went. “They won’t mutiny against us, they never have. House-elves are loyal and faithful and they choose to serve us out of their own volition.”

Several members of the Wizengamot were nodding now, and Regulus took this as a sign to continue.

“We may give them commands, but the magic they use to meet our needs should be their own choice. House-elves are the backbone of our society and to hurt them would hurt us all.” Regulus marched up to the Head Warlock and handed him the petition. “So please, I’m begging you, vote No on the bill.”

The members of the Wizengamot passed the petition around, reading the names of several of their Ministry colleagues-- everyone from top board members to maintenance staff-- telling them to vote against the bill. 

The Head Warlock cleared his throat. “Time to call a vote.”

Regulus felt frozen in place in the middle of the chamber.

“Everyone in favor of Bill #3395, raise your hand.”

Five hands went up, including the wrinkly old wizard who had proposed the law in the first place.

“Everyone _not_ in favor of Bill #3395, raise your hand.”

All other hands went up.

Regulus’s head was whirling. Fifty faces stared down at him, with various expressions on their wizened faces. Some seemed impressed, others had more neutral expressions. Most of them with their hands raised in the air.

He felt like he could faint.

“Well,” said the Head Warlock, a smile playing on his lips. “It looks like we have a majority, 45-5. This Bill will not be passing into law.”

“Thank you,” Regulus said, feeling his eyes begin to well with tears of joy.

“Next time, please go through proper channels, young man,” the Head Warlock said.

Regulus nodded, backing away from the center of the room.

“This session is adjourned.”

The people in the room began to disperse, getting out of their seats. Regulus walked off to the side of the room, approaching Newt Scamander, who looked just as happy as Regulus felt. Suddenly Regulus found himself being hugged, the other boy’s arms thrown around him.

“You did it,” Newt said, his voice full of pure joy.

Regulus leaned into the hug. He could feel Newt’s body warmth against his own, his heartbeat accelerated along with Regulus’s own, the thrill of the triumph running through both of their veins. “No,” Regulus corrected him. “We did it.”


End file.
